In sinking insomnia I lay awake,
Striving to hoard my memories thick.

Those images that Ierased and still I like,
Somerelieve but frequently attack.

My dreams are tangle of my trust and smog,
They abandon me tired and often stun.

As the sun rays sparkle, touching my eyes,
I crave to jump in profound stillness.

Countless to do and so much to measure,
Yet time flies in vanity and despair.

My reasoning crash and liquidate,
That my limp brain wrestles to substitute.

Yet I continue with all diversions of life,
Like an connoisseur who is never content.

by Insomaniac Mee

Comments (1)

A good start with a nice poem, Insomaniac. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.